


Plane and Simple

by Freya_the_Snake_Slayer



Series: Modus Homerandi [3]
Category: Stargate - All Media Types, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Air Force, Established Relationship, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, F/M, Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Friendship goals, Funny, Happy Ending, Humor, Married Couple, Married Life, Military Science Fiction, Mother-Son Relationship, Plot Twists, Random & Short, Relationship Goals, Romance, Short, Short & Sweet, Strategy & Tactics, Surprise Ending, Surprises, Team Bonding, Team as Family, True Love, Undercover Missions, squad goals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-29 09:11:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16261130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freya_the_Snake_Slayer/pseuds/Freya_the_Snake_Slayer
Summary: SG-1 reunites to help Jack and Sam mount a successful airstrike (sort of..!)





	Plane and Simple

He’d been trying to mount a successful airstrike for weeks, but to no avail. Their fuel and supplies were dwindling, and team morale was low.

He’d dove deep into his military handbook and used every formation, strategy and maneuver he could think of.

They’d tried executing an air combat maneuver, but no amount of fancy flying had helped. He’d pulled out his best moves - utilized every skill he’d acquired during his 30 plus years of military service. Carter had even tried some new aerial acrobatics, but it hadn’t gained them any advantage - neither offensively or defensively. When flying solo hadn’t worked, they’d tried flying in formation. He’d theorised that this would minimise drag and allow them to concentrate their fire power. He’d tried taking command, while she’d flown second seat - but in spite of their flight capabilities and maneuverability, their efforts were ineffective.

They thought an aerial demonstration might prove their seriousness to the target, but they were only met with laughter and crude projectiles. They’d tried analysing the projectiles to gain some insight into the target’s modus operandi. While the size of the missiles varied, they were definitely self-propelled and short range. What they knew for certain was they weren’t naquador-enhanced. Their mark seemed to favour more organic materials.

When their aerial antics had proved unproductive, they’d tried switching vehicles. They’d deployed fighters, bombers and helicopters, but their mark had remained unmoved. It had demonstrated an innate ability to thwart their movements at every turn. He suspected it was using inertial dampeners.

As far as he could tell, the whole situation was a little less ‘strike eagle’ and a little more of him striking out. It seemed the only g-force he was pulling these days were g-rated curses - with force!

He needed to take control of the situation!

For the briefest of moments, he considered switching torque for talk. Although he preferred action over speech, he could usually see the merits in negotiation. Unfortunately, this wasn’t one of those times. Normally he’d turn to Daniel to broker a mutually beneficial treaty, but the target had an obscure dialect that even he didn’t understand.

Despite the language barrier, the target understood action. In that respect they were compadres - cut from the same mould. It looked too young to have acquired the knowledge from experience, so he assumed it had genetic memory.

He wished it was more plane and simple.

In a last ditch effort to gain some foothold on the situation, they’d called in some closed air support. With a hostile target such as theirs, they needed to bring in a trained observer to coordinate with their friendly ground troops. He was hoping the observer would help them hit their target without incurring any casualties. While the observer was able to offer some invaluable insight into the target’s motives, its tenure was short-lived. Unfortunately, it’d grossly underestimated the situation and fallen victim to friendly fire. He hated losing people in the line of duty.

He’d reached the end of his tether. He’d never condoned bribery or corruption - not during his entire administration, but he could feel himself starting to weaken.

He had one more move left. It was their last resort. He was going to consult with a civilian advisor.

“Daniel,” he ran his hand across the back of his neck, “I’m running out of options here.”

“Ok, Jack,” his friend said in soothing tones, “Talk me through your strategy. What have you tried so far?”

“We’ve tried being creative in our delivery - you know, changing-up the flight pattern…”

Daniel furrowed his brow.

Jack sighed and rubbed at his temples, “...you know, when you feed a kid and pretend the spoon is an airplane..?”

Daniel mouthed an ‘ah.’

“Well, Jakey has these Air Force-themed spoons that he really loves - there’s a strike eagle, a bomber, a helicopter,” he counted out on his fingers, “They were a gift from General Hammond. We thought they’d help him transition into eating solids, but he doesn’t seem interested.”

The retired General slouched in his chair. “We’ve tried using the different spoons, tried feeding him simultaneously…”

“Wait, what good would that do?”

“We thought if we concentrated our fire power - so to speak, some of the food would get through.”

“Interesting approach.”

“Yeah. Anyway, we've also tried feeding him from different angles and feeding ourselves first,” he met his friend’s worried stare, “so he knows it’s safe to eat…”

“...right...of course,” Daniel stuttered.

“If I’m honest, neither of us have much fuel left in the tank. We’re both exhausted. We haven’t even been grocery shopping.”

Daniel nodded in understanding.

“Jacob seems more interested in throwing the food, then eating it.”

“Didn’t you have a pediatrician come to visit?”

“Yeah,” Jack began, “She didn’t stay very long. She took some pumpkin puree to the eye.”

Daniel grimaced in sympathy, “Ouch.”

“...well, there’s that. You should see this kid dodge a spoonful of vegetables...it’s like watching Muhammad Ali defend his title.”

“I don't know how helpful I'm going to be, Jack. If Jake was a system lord, we might be able to work something out…” Daniel's face lit-up with a smile.

Jack narrowed a 'don't go there' stare at the archeologist.

Daniel awkwardly cleared his throat. “So...hey! Why don't you ask Teal'c? He has a son.”

“Yeah, I thought about that…”

“O'Neill,” Teal'c bellowed from the front door.

“It's open, T!”

Moments later, the trio had convened in the kitchen. Jacob was strapped into his highchair with a bowl of mash at his fingertips.

Jack dug into the mash with a spoon and scooped out a sizeable mouthful.

“Okay Jakey, here comes the airplane…” he drew his arm back and zoomed the utensil towards the baby's mouth. Jacob raised his tiny hands to block the spoon and forcefully pushed it away.

“See what I'm dealing with here?” Jack's voice came out sounding more strained than he'd intended.

“Okay, Jack...step away from the spoon.” Daniel lifted the utensil from Jack's grasp and placed it on Jacob's highchair tray. “Teal'c, any thoughts?”

The Jaffa turned to face Jack. To the untrained eye, his expression would have appeared indifferent - but Jack could read the subtleties of his face. He was confused and slightly diverted.

“Why would a child want to consume an aircraft?”

Daniel and Jack exchanged a fleeting look.

“I guess it's because the mouth is kinda like a hanger…” Jack shook his head, “I don't know, Teal'c. It's just a weird Earth thing. You have a son. How did you get him to eat?”

“On Chulak, we have an old Jaffa trick that has proved most effective in the past,” Teal'c stated dryly, “Would you permit me to try it?”

“Yes, thanks buddy!” Jack's features softened with relief and he took a step back, “I trust you. Do what you need to do.”

Teal'c levelled his dark brown eyes with Jacob's bright blue ones. The baby's long eyelashes beated hard against his soft cheek, but he appeared largely unbothered by his surrogate uncle's presence.

“Jacob O'Neill, you must eat your vegetables if you wish to be a strong warrior like your Mother and Father.”

Jacob's tiny digits slowly wrapped around the spoon and he roughly jabbed it into his open mouth, his eyes never leaving the former first prime's. He chewed a few times, then swallowed.

“T, you did it!” Jack slammed an open palm across the older man's back. “You're the baby whisperer! You realise, you're never leaving this house again.”


End file.
